(Un) Intentional
Written by: Subbu Ananth
Sitting in the car, hand on the wheel, she let out a puff of smoke keeping watch outside. Neha was a twenty-something yuppie in her first job as an airline hostess. Her grip on the wheel tightened momentarily as anger and anxiety plied on at the same time, the increasing heartbeat moistening her face and forehead.
Neha was waiting there to kill.
Unaware of the danger lurking outside, Mike was getting ready for his evening run, tying his shoes lace around the ankle. He had been released from prison only last week after a court found him not guilty of manslaughter.
Mike had run over his friend Sid, a year back which most on,lookers believed was deliberate and could have been avoided.
“It was not intentional” Mike had cried, “Sid was engrossed on his hand phone and didn’t realize when he strayed onto the road. Sid was my friend, I wouldn’t do this, I did not kill him”.
These words playing over and over again on TV was flashing in front of Neha. She was dead sure, Mike did it on purpose to her brother, Sid. She knew he hated Sid for cosying up with his ex-girlfriend, Yana.
“Yana was going out with Sid to make you jealous, to get back at you and you took it out on Sid”, she rued, as tears trickled down her smooth complexion.
The winter sun was going down early, the pleasant evening sea breeze turning chilly and difficult to keep the windows rolled down.
“Could that be him? Six months in custody should have made him frailer”, she thought. Mike had emerged out of his building in his running gear. Headphones strapped to the ears, he was jogging towards the road crossing.
“Training for the marathon, Mike? Run to your grave, you murderer!” Neha’s control was giving way as she revved up the engine and switched off the headlights.
The road was wide and long with trees lining either side. Falling leaves had sprinkled the road yellow and these flew up with dust as every car sped by. Four high rise apartment blocks to the right were facing a jogging track on the left. After every two buildings, came a speed breaker with zebra lines that helped people to cross over.
Looking at Sid’s picture on the ignition keychain one last time, she cried, “Sid, he’s coming”, as the car picked up speed. Dust and leaves flew up on the road as the white SUV hurtled down.
“Five, four, three, two, one…”
“Intentional Mike, this time it’s intentional”, she exulted, powering up the headlights as the man looked towards her.
“Oh my God !”
“This is not Mike !”
“He is not Mike, Help !!” Helpless and honking, the car swerved to the left.
“Get away”
The SUV skidded, swerved wildly avoiding the oncoming traffic crashing into a tree.
And right there, sandwiched between the car and the tree was Mike, holding a phone to his ear and waiting to cross the road.
(Un)intentional it turned out, again !